Where do I begin when it comes to my day with Asher? It started off all right. I mean, I didn’t want to be there, and I didn’t want to sit next to him, and I didn’t want to talk. Okay, so I was a complete bitch.
But then it was all right. He made me feel comfortable and he was easy to talk to. There was that moment when he said he wanted to get to know me, and my entire world stopped for just a second, until I flaked on him. For the life of me, I cannot imagine why he wanted to keep the tour going. Not that he was any good as a tour guide. Actually, he sucked.
Something changed in me today. My fear of speed for one. Six months ago I thought I’d never get into a moving vehicle again. I overcame that fear out of necessity, only allowing the driver to go a safe speed, dictated by me. Today, I was racing across the ocean with no protection other than Asher’s steel grasp. I shouldn’t be surprised. My fear is new, and I was probably going to let it go sooner or later. I’m sure it’s no big deal.
What is a big deal was how Asher treated me when we returned. He was dismissive and cold. It was as if he hadn’t had his arm wrapped around me. Nice to know I made as big an impression on him as he did on me.
Not.
“It was boring. We drove in circles for a few hours and he didn’t speak to me at all.”
Leah follows me into the bedroom. Her hands fall to her hips as she chews on her lip. She looks like she’s been deflated. “Oh, well, that sucks. I’m sorry you had to spend the day like that.”
I let my hair out of my ponytail and shake out the tightness of it. I’m wrapping it back up in a messy bun when I see that look in Leah’s eyes.
“It’s fine. I’m not gonna get all sad because I had a crap tour,” I say taking a seat on the bed. She looks up at me, trying to decide if I’m lying. “Besides, it was pretty nice to be able to look at a hot guy for a few hours.” I throw in a smile for good measure.
Leah relaxes and nods her head. “He was totally hot. Did he take off the sunglasses? What color are his eyes?”
“They’re like a warm honey.” I clamp my mouth shut as soon as the words come.
Leah’s face lights up in a magnanimous smile. She is just about to squeal something but is interrupted by the chime of her iPad.
We both look down at the device, which is perched on the end table next to us. Our mom’s face lights up the screen and the word PAM flashes at the top. Leah enjoys referring to Mom by her first name.
I make a face at the thought of having to talk to her, but Leah lifts the iPad and swipes on the screen anyway. “Hi, Pam!”
“Hello, sweetie. How are my girls doing?” Mom’s voice echoes from the speaker. She and Leah are on FaceTime but Leah has the screen faced in her direction.
I’m surprised mom isn’t calling in a panic because her daughters are stranded in Italy. Using a series of eyestrain and head tilts, I ask Leah if Mom knows what happened yesterday. She gives me a slight shake “No” and goes back to talking to the screen.
“We’re good. In fact, we’re having the time of our lives. We went on a boat tour yesterday and today we spent some time by the water getting some sun.” Leah continues to go on and on about the hotel we’re staying in and the gorgeous pool she sat by today. I have to give the girl credit, she doesn’t lie once.
Bend the truth? Sure.
Lie? Absolutely not.
Mom and Leah have a lively conversation. Every once in a while, Leah gets carried away in her conversation, and Mom makes comments like, “You’re so fresh” and “Behave.”
The two of them have a comfortable relationship. They can get silly with each other. Actually, that’s just Leah. It’s in her nature to draw you in and make you feel as comfortable as possible.
“How’s Emma? Is she there with you?” Mom asks.
I shake my head dramatically but Leah’s flashes a huge smile and says, “She’s right here.”
I pinch my lips together, scowling at Leah but my face quickly turns into a polite smile when the screen is turned in my direction.
Mom is sitting there wearing a T-shirt with an orange calico cat on it that says, “Every life should have 9 cats.” She must be getting ready to go out in the garden.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?” she asks, her voice turning down an octave from when she was talking to Leah.
I run my nails along my neck and scratch down the sides. “I’m good. Just as Leah said, having a great time.”
Mom moves closer to the screen as if she can see me better if she rests her retinas against the glass. “Leah said you went out to a club. Did you have fun?”
“I did.”
